There is a tendency in this country to admire people for the amount of brass in their necks, though brass in pocket does help too. This must make those politicians still asking Ben Dunne (according to himself) for money some of the most admirable folks around. On the other hand, they may just be some of the most stupid. Or simply, the most desperate.
In truth, admire is probably too positive a word for what we feel towards the brass-neck brigade. We envy their ability to ask and get turned down, to keep asking and keep plugging away when the rest of us would have shrivelled up in shame. And some of them don't get turned away every time.
Now there are two distinct groups who are "blessed" with a brass neck. One lot are legitimate fund-raisers. They don't just work within political parties and they do a fantastic job. The others are focused on their personal wealth, specifically on substantially increasing it, not merely making ends meet. They, if our tribunals are anything to go by, seem to have some particularly large gaps in their cunning.
They seem to be willing to take large quantities of money in the form of eminently traceable cheques. And when they do have the cop-on to look for a bag full of used notes they go and stick it into their bank accounts without the slightest thought that such large deposits might, at some stage, raise questions. Some have managed to set up complicated offshore accounts or a series of mythical companies designed to "launder" these illicit funds. But for the most part they simply didn't expect to get caught, to have their dealings appear in the spotlight. They believed that what they were doing was standard practice, that there always had been and always would be wads of dosh mixed up in politics. And they weren't wrong. The majority of the public would probably agree with them - not that money in politics is right, but that it has always been there. Anyone listening to Eamon Dunphy's programme would have gathered ample evidence to support this proposition. Each day he ended up reading out comments from listeners telling him not to spend so much time covering the tribunals. They were bored by the whole thing - not shocked, not horrified just bored. The attitude was "politicians took cash from businessmen in dubious circumstances? Tell us something new."
What the public would be surprised to hear are the reactions of politicians and ex-politicians. Everyone I've talked to has been angry, embarrassed, ashamed and disappointed. Many have been shocked, not because they didn't have some suspicions and had heard rumours over the years, but they had no idea of the sums involved or all of the people implicated. They are all sure of one other thing, that the public now reckons they were all on the take. And that the tribunals have only caught a few sacrificial lambs, a couple a big names that always had doubts attached to them. .
This is where we run into the crux of the problem - very few politicians are or ever were "on the take", but all parties have to take money. It costs money to run a political party. No party is going to be able to fund its election campaigns without external income. Fianna Fail is not Manchester United - it could never make enough money out of replica anoraks to keep itself in the black.
So they all have to get involved in fund-raising. These activities are run primarily by the party treasurer, who will have a committee to assist him.
They will create a plan for the year and run golf classics, prize draws and dinners. They will also target big businesses for contributions. The pursuit of the large companies is usually carried out by head office. This suits both sides: the parties get the money and the firms make sure that only the most senior members know who has given them the money. They also realise that only a few people know how much has been given to which party, allowing them to safely contribute to as many parties as they want. A sensible precaution given the volatility of politics. Sinking all your contributions in Fianna Fail and finding a Fine Gael-led coalition in power would do you little good.
The precise nature of the quid pro quo that will come your way because of these contributions is what worries the public. Most assume that a political contribution would beget a political favour. A bit of legislation here, a rezoning there. What it may actually buy you is access. The ability to meet a Minister and have your case heard. No more than that. But even the ability to sit down and talk to a senior political figure will always raise questions in the public's mind. There will always be the worry that a politician will be swayed not merely by the argument deployed but by the implicit threat that funding for the party might be withdrawn. That whatever the denials, enough cash will buy you political influence.
The solution, of course, is for the public to buy the influence back. The reality is that we, the taxpayers, are going to have to fund the political parties through the Exchequer. Right now that solution must seem unpalatable.
But there is no alternative: it will help ensure a transparency in the way parties conduct their affairs and probably cause us to be better motivated to go out and vote. It may help revive politics itself if people can see that the decision-making process cannot be influenced by the needs of our larger corporations and their megabucks.
It has been agreed by all of the political parties that the recommendations of the tribunals will be implemented. If one of those recommendations is Exchequer funding for political parties we will be saved a lot of hassle.
If not, I would not relish going into the next election telling the public they are going to have to pay for my next campaign, no matter how sensible that course of action may be. But we may find that will be the case. At that stage we will discover whether we want to continue to assume the worst about our politicians, or whether we want to have a political system we can be proud of.
